The Lily Pond
by pokemon4597
Summary: Thomas can't be himself at Downton, in town, or anywhere, really. He's made peace with that. But there is one place where things are different. A place where he can let his guard down and all of his secrets come tumbling out. A place that feels like home. Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Hello, all Downton Abbey lovers! Basically, my idea for this fic came from a simple question: "Does Thomas ever get to be himself?" This five-chapter fic tries to answer that question. I'll have one chapter for each season, so there may be some SPOILERS in the later chapters if you're not caught up. If this piece ever find any readers, please review! I'll probably be posting Chapter 2 sometime tomorrow!_

June 14, 1911

The Lily Pond. That was Daniel had told him in his last letter. Thomas took one more look at it as he walked down Regent Street, hoping he had remembered the directions correctly. _"Meet me in Piccadilly Circus, in the back of the Lyons Corner House, and ask one of the serving girls about the Lily Pond. I'll be the darling wearing the red hat."_

Thomas smiled to himself as he folded the letter and returned it to the inside of his jacket, thinking of how silly Daniel could sometimes be. He always had to stand out, always had to turn heads and raise eyebrows. He had been like that even as a boy in grammar school, never doing what was expected of him. If the teacher called for silence, he'd start humming some song or another. When the boys organized a game of cricket, he'd run off to go look at the flowers and the birds. No, Daniel had never had a problem being different. That was something Thomas admired about him. And something he found completely exhausting.

But Daniel was a friend, one of the few Thomas had. And so here he was, in one of his few spare hours during the London season, hunting Daniel down. Born into a well-to-do family, Daniel was a banker, and had, for the last several years, been searching London for "the absolutely best cup of tea." This place was, according to him, something special. Thomas only hoped it wouldn't prove too pricey for the few shillings he had in his pocket.

After a few more minutes' walking, he'd arrived in Piccadilly Circus, and after asking a nearby constable, was directed to Lyon's Corner House. It was a new restaurant built into a much older facade, its name marked above the doors in big, bold lettering. It seemed to be quite the popular establishment, with people coming in and out every few seconds. It didn't look like anything particularly special to Thomas, just some flashy new place that London's fashionable doubtless adored. He wouldn't have been surprised to see his employers taking luncheon here. He was beginning to feel woefully underdressed; as it was, he'd barely had time to get out of livery if he'd wanted to make it here on time.

Thomas opened the door and headed inside, only to be taken aback by the size of place. There were hundreds upon hundreds of white-clothed tables, with great pillars scattered around the room. Nearly all the tables were full, and there wasn't a trace of Daniel's supposed red hat. He was about to take a look at the letter again when he remembered he was supposed to ask one of the waitresses about "The Lily Pond."

Looking around, he spotted one heading back towards the kitchen, a pretty girl in a long black dress and wearing a white apron round her waist. She looked to be in a bit of rush. "Excuse me," he said softly to her as she walked by. She looked at him and smiled a tired smile Thomas knew all too well.

"Yes? Are you looking for a table? I'm afraid you might have a bit of a wait in front of you…" she said, very quickly.

"Oh no—er, yes I am. But I was hoping you could direct me to the—er, the Lily Pond," as soon as he had finished he realized how foolish he must seem, asking such a queer question. What if this was all some great joke of Daniel's?

But to his relief, her smile grew wider, and she immediately answered, "Oh yes, of course. Follow me right this way."

She turned from her previous path and began making her way towards the back of the dining room, leading Thomas to a set of double doors he hadn't noticed before.

"The Lily Pond is right through here, sir. I hope you have a lovely time at the Corner House," she finished, winking at him as she left, to Thomas' great surprise.

What on earth was that about? What had that waitress meant, winking like that? Thomas continued puzzling over her strange behavior as he opened the door and found himself in a much smaller room, only thirty or so tables, all with light purple table cloths instead of white, and all, he noticed, topped with brightly colored flowers. It was, he thought a sort of private room, like the kind where important families dined, separate from the rest of the rabble. He had never been in one before, not being a member of such a family.

"Thomas? Thomas, is that you?" a familiar voice called from not too far away.

Sure enough, Thomas turned around and saw Daniel sitting just a few tables away, beaming. He was indeed wearing the promised dark red hat, and he had even tucked a bright yellow feather onto it as well. It didn't look half bad next to his dark hair and blue eyes, though the feather was a bit much. Though Daniel never could get dressed without _something_ being a bit much. He was a looker, though. Always had been

"Hello, Daniel," Thomas said with a small smile, his usual cool demeanor breaking in spite of himself.

Daniel had already gotten up to embrace him, kissing him on both cheeks _à la mode Parisienne_.

"Must you always put on such a show, Daniel?" Thomas chided, half-heartedly. He didn't really mind, though it often attracted stares. He'd gotten used to it years ago.

"Oh but I couldn't help myself, Tommy!" he replied as they both sat down, using the hated nickname. "It's been ages since we last saw each other."

"I've told you a thousand times—" Thomas began.

"Not to call you that, I know, I know… But old habits die hard! Anyway, what have you been up to? How are those ghastly aristocrats treating you?" Daniel said.

Thomas smiled, pulling out a cigarette. "Not too bad. Mr. Carson's just made me first footman, if you must know." He was just about to light his cigarette when Daniel plucked it out of his hand and tossed it over his shoulder, ignoring Thomas' sharp cry of dismay.

"Filthy habit. Anyway, well done you! Who's the poor boy working under mean old Mr. Barrow?" Daniel asked, eyes twinkling.

"His name's William Mason, and he's alright, I suppose. He's never been to London, so he won't shut up about how big everything is and all that. You know country folk," Thomas replied, picking up the tea menu. "What's so special about this place, anyhow?"

"Country folk? And how many times have _you_ been to London? I suppose Yorkshire is a cosmopolitan hub these days, is it?" Daniel teased. "And as for this place, you don't mean to tell me you haven't _noticed_?"

Thomas was bemused. "Noticed what? A load of purple tables?"

Daniel sighed and rolled his eyes. "Take a look around Thomas. Don't you see anything…_different_ about this place?"

Thomas lazily glanced around their table, sure Daniel was going to start talking about accents in the ceiling or the like. But then a couple at a nearby table caught his eye, two rather average looking men he'd paid no attention to upon entering. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that they were holding hands as they chatted. They were holding hands. _In public_.

Astounded, Thomas turned in his chair to look at the tables behind him. Sure enough, they were all men, and they were all very clearly together _in that way_. One couple was sharing a plate of veal, feeding each other. At another table, the two men were simply gazing into each other's eyes, not saying a word. Thomas' mouth fell open a little, his heart racing. A familiar sort of panic began to set in. It was feeling he knew all too well. This couldn't be happening. They were going to get caught, all of them.

He turned back to look at Daniel, who had an enormous grin plastered across his face.

"What—what is this place?" Thomas asked, very quietly. His only thought was: _danger._ His fist was clenched on the table and he was growing whiter by the second.

Daniel's face fell upon seeing Thomas', and he quickly started to explain. "Oh, no Tommy, please don't be nervous. We're safe here. No one knows about it, and the girls make sure no one else can get back here. The Lily Pond is for…well, for people like us."

He reached across the table to grab Thomas' hand, but it was pulled away before he could. Thomas didn't need to be coddled, he needed to get out of there. "I'm fine. I just…I need a moment," Thomas muttered.

"I'm so sorry to have frightened you like this," Daniel apologized. "But I wanted to surprise you! I remember how I felt when one of my friends first brought me here. I just wanted you to feel the same thing. I'm sorry."

Daniel looked sincerely put out. Thomas could imagine how excited he'd probably been about showing him this, admittedly incredible, place. And it did seem safe enough. Thomas tried his best to calm down, taking several deep breaths. "Could we get that tea, then?" he asked, attempting a smile. Daniel smiled back, relieved.

A short while and two cups of tea later, Thomas was smiling again, and Daniel had never looked happier. "So how did you hear about this place? And how is it the police haven't raided it and hauled all of us 'deviants' off to prison?" Thomas asked.

"I think it sort of spread through the grape vine. Well, _our_ grape vine. The girls were asked one day if they had a place for a private couple's luncheon, and it just grew from there. People have been very careful who they tell, I suppose. I've only shown this place to you and the one other," Daniel responded.

"And it's really only our sort who come in here? Have you ever seen anyone you knew?" Thomas asked. He could still scarcely believe that people like him had a place where they could be together, be around each other without attracting undue attention.

"Actually, I—Oh, look who just walked in," Daniel remarked, eyes following someone behind Thomas. Thomas turned to see a gorgeous man with brown hair and dark eyes looking around for a table. He caught Daniel's eye, smiled and walked over.

"Hello Daniel, lovely to see you again," he said, shaking Daniel's hand. He smiled at Thomas, who couldn't help but smile back. This man had charm oozing out of every pore.

"And you as well. Thomas, this is the Duke of Crawborough. Philip, this is Thomas Barrow," Daniel said.

Thomas' eyes widened and he hastened to stand up and show proper respect. "Er, it's an honor to meet you, Your Grace," Thomas said, averting his eyes and bowing. To his surprise, he heard laughing and looked up to see both Daniel and the Duke doubled over.

"Oh please, Thomas, there's no need for such formalities here," the Duke said. "This is where I come to relax, let my hair down, if you will. Please, call me Philip." Again he shot Thomas that dazzling smile, and Thomas felt something in his stomach do a sort of flutter.

Daniel asked the Duke—er, Philip, to join them at their table, and he did so with pleasure. A few minutes later, just after the Philip had ordered his tea, Thomas felt a hand on his thigh. He noted that since Daniel's hands were both gesticulating wildly about something he'd done last month in Sussex, it definitely didn't belong to him. He cast a shy glance over at Philip, who caught Thomas' eye for just a moment and allowed his hand to wander further up his thigh.

Thomas was going to like the Lily Pond.

_Thomas was on his way home from school (where he'd had to bang erasers after lessons for calling Marcus a mean name), walking along the road from the schoolhouse to town, when he came across another boy sitting on the side of the road. He was crying, and he looked to have both a bloody nose and a cut lip. With dark hair and blue eyes red from tears, Thomas recognized him from school, though he didn't know his name. He didn't talk to the other boys much._

_Thomas thought for a moment of passing him by, but his conscience got the better of him and he sat down next to the boy. "What's the matter?" he asked the other boy, not looking at him, after a few moments of silence._

"_They—they—" the boy said through his sobs, "they all started hitting me." _

"_Who did?" Thomas asked, though he had already guessed. It had to be Marcus and his cronies._

"_I'm not going to snitch," boy said, weakly. Thomas turned his head to face him and seemed to suddenly see him in a new light. This boy, who owed nothing to Marcus or, indeed, whoever had hurt him, was trying to protect him. He was remarkably strong, Thomas thought._

"_I already know it was Marcus," Thomas said. The boy's lip quivered. "It was, wasn't it?" The boy, after a moment, nodded. "Why?" Thomas asked._

"_He said…he said I need to stop playing at being a girl. That I need to stop drawing…" the boy said, starting to cry again. "He took all of my drawings…" _

_Thomas asked, after another moment, "Why didn't your friends help you fight him?"_

_The boy looked away, wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeve. "I don't have any. I'm too…different."_

_Thomas stood up and offered the boy his hand. "Well, you have one now. My name's Thomas. What's yours?"_

_Sniffling, the boy took the proffered hand and stood up as well. "Daniel," he said, looking rather surprised that Thomas had even bothered to ask._

_Something about this boy, Thomas thought, something about him was special. Something about him was…burning. No, not burning. Glowing. _

"_Well, let's get you home, Daniel," Thomas said, slinging an arm around Daniel's shoulder. They started walking back down the road to town. _

"_Thomas. Can I call you Tommy, then?" Daniel asked, after they'd taken a few steps._

_Thomas smiled and looked at him. No one had ever called him Tommy. "Sure, if you want."_

"_Alright," Daniel said, smiling back. They were silent for the next few minutes, though it was clear to Thomas Daniel wanted to say something. Finally, "I like you, Tommy."_

"_I like you too, Daniel." _


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: I hope this chapter finds you well! I actually really enjoyed writing this one, so please read and review! I hope you all like it! _

_Oh, and just a tidbit, the Lily Pond was a real place in London, though I did, of course, imagine what it looks like! Enjoy!_

April 18th, 1917

Thomas sat at a table by himself in the Lily Pond, one of the only men in the room. What with the war on and so many men having been called up to fight, there were precious few men of _any _sort left to cavort in tea shops. The conflict weighed heavily upon London. You wouldn't know it looking about, though. The tablecloths were still immaculately pressed, the flowers were still freshly cut, and the light shining in through the windows was as cheery as ever. It all seemed a bit false to Thomas. A bit dishonest. But that was what the English did after all. They carried on.

Thomas stared at his cup of tea, sitting untouched on a saucer in front of him. It had gone cold in the quarter of an hour since he'd ordered it. He hadn't found the strength to drink it. He hadn't been able to find the strength to do much in the past few days. He had been able to get on a train to London, however. That he had done.

"Thomas? Good lord, you look terrible," Daniel said, sitting down across from him. He couldn't have looked more different than he had done six years previously. Gone was the bright hat with its bright feather. Gone was the easy smile. There were no French kisses this time. This Daniel was dressed in stark black, as though he had just gone to a funeral. Considering the times, Thomas wouldn't have been surprised to learn he had been.

"You don't look so good yourself," Thomas replied. Though he supposed he should have expected it, he was surprised by this new Daniel. This is not what he had thought he was getting when he'd written to him and asked to meet. This was…wrong.

"I must say I was surprised to get your last letter. How did you ever manage to get away? I'd imagine with all the men gone, you'd be needed more than ever at Downton?" Daniel asked.

"Actually, I haven't been in service since I've come back. I've got some medical training, so I've been helping Doctor Clarkson at the town hospital," Thomas answered.

"Really? You've been saving lives and making a difference even after being shot? Well done!" Daniel finally smiled as he said this, looking rather like a proud father. "How is your hand, by the way? Can you still use it?"

Thomas grimaced. He couldn't bear having Daniel talk about him like he was some sort of hero, not after what he'd done. Not after he'd cheated his way back home. And even worse was hearing that he was saving lives…When he couldn't save the one life that mattered.

"That's enough about me. Tell me about what you've been up to Daniel. What's it like, banking in a time of war?" Thomas asked, eager to shift the focus off of himself.

"Well, it's a lot of work, actually," Daniel said, the smile leaving his face as fast as it had appeared. "I already told you that when the war first started, we had to go to a lot of trouble dumping all of our German investments. And then as people started being called up, we had a lot of men coming in with all their savings and buying insurance. In case things…in case things ended up badly. But the past year….It's all been widows. Widows and mothers, coming to collect our money in exchange for their husbands and sons. I've had to turn people away because we just couldn't afford to pay them all. It's dirty work, Thomas. Dirty work."

Had he just called him _Thomas? _Daniel had never sounded so completely defeated in all the time Thomas had known him. He supposed that he and Daniel had something in common at the moment, then.

"Anyway, I'm sure you've been doing far more interesting work in the hospital. Have you been helping soldiers?" Daniel asked.

"I—I've been trying," Thomas replied quietly. He was surprised to find his eyes suddenly stinging with tears. He'd been crying so much recently that he thought he'd used them all up.

"Thomas, you mustn't blame yourself for the ones you can't save. It's not your fault. You're doing the best you can," Daniel said, hoping to comfort him, a look of concern on his face.

"You don't understand. I could have done more. For _him_, I could have done more…I should have told him I wouldn't let them take him, I should have—" Thomas' voice broke as the tears spilled onto his cheeks.

"Who? Thomas, who are you talking about?" Daniel asked, hurriedly searching in his coat pockets for a handkerchief.

Thomas wiped his eyes with his sleeve just as Daniel found his handkerchief and placed it in front of him. Thomas picked it up and wiped his nose. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. "His name was Edward. Edward Courtenay," Thomas said at last, opening his eyes and looking at his lap.

"He…he was a lieutenant in the army, and he got hurt. Well, he was blinded by a gas attack. So we took him on at the hospital in the village," Thomas continued. He looked up at Daniel, whose hands were folded in front of him. He nodded for Thomas to continue.

"And Lady Sybil and I, we were taking care of him. He was a nice man, a really good man who'd just had everything taken away from him. He went to Oxford to study but he really only wanted to farm, that's all he ever wanted to do," Thomas said, speaking faster, as though the words had been waiting to come out for days and days.

"And he was getting better. He was getting stronger, and he started telling me about his family. He has—had—a brother, Jack, who he never liked much. He was always trying to replace him, Ed said, because I started calling him Ed, you know? Doctor Clarkson said making the patient feel comfortable was important, so I started calling him Ed, to make him feel more at home. But he was just so nice, and maybe it was because he couldn't see me, but I could be myself around him. And there's no one else I can be that way with, except for you, Daniel. But you're here and he was there and _he was getting better_, _Daniel_. He was," Thomas spat, the words flying from his lips now, violent and loud. And new tears were falling, hot and angry.

"But they wouldn't listen when Lady Sybil and I told them he needed to stay. He needed us. He needed _me_, and if he had stayed he would be alive right now but they told him he would have to go and then the next day…they found him in his bed, bleeding all over the damn place. He slit his wrists in the night," Thomas finished, scowling and crying at the same time.

"Thomas, I'm so sorry," Daniel said solemnly.

"He said I was beautiful," Thomas nearly whispered. "He asked me if could touch my face, to see what I looked like. And I let him. And then…and then he said, 'You're beautiful, Thomas." Thomas couldn't continue. He couldn't tell Daniel how he'd asked Edward if he'd like to feel his lips, as well. How Edward had smiled and said "yes."

"Lately I've been wondering if Ed didn't have the right idea," Thomas muttered, mostly to himself. Mostly.

Daniel's entire body stiffened at these words. His hands turned white as they gripped each other harder, and his jaw clenched. "Thomas, I never want to hear you say that again," he said, slowly and deliberately, each syllable perfectly enunciated. His words were icy, dangerous even.

Thomas looked up in alarm. He hadn't expected such a fierce reaction. He'd been expecting Daniel's usual soothing reassurance, perhaps. Or maybe even a reproach. But not this. This felt more like…a warning.

"Why? What right do you have—" Thomas began, before being cut off.

"What right do I have? What right do _you_ have, you ungrateful little—You were lucky enough to come back from the war, Thomas. Do you know how many men weren't? Do you know many still won't be? They're fighting so that you can recover at home, so that you can sit here in this tea shop grieving for a man you barely knew. And you think you can just throw away their sacrifice?" Daniel thundered, his eyes burning. His hands were flying through the air as he raged at Thomas, and the few others in the Lily Pond were starting to stare.

Thomas didn't give a damn about who saw. He was furious. Where did Daniel get off lecturing him about sacrifice, as he sat in London, in his cushy little job, turning away old women and bereaved wives? "I don't know who you think you are, Daniel, but you—" Thomas began, ready to give as good as he'd gotten.

"Ronny's dead, Thomas," Daniel said, before Thomas could continue. "Ronny's dead."

And just like that, all the air left both of their sails. They seemed to shrink, as if they were both hot air balloons that had just been punctured. Thomas felt the familiar lethargy of shock he'd known for the past week creeping back into him, but worse now after hearing… "What?" Thomas said, incredulous.

Ronny was Daniel's younger brother. He'd always been a good lad, and he as a boy he was forever following Daniel, and later Thomas, around. He was much more of a man's man than his brother, preferring rough-and-tumble play to his brother's more delicate tastes. He'd taken to Thomas as soon as he'd met him, and the three of them had spent many an afternoon together, playing cricket and wrestling. Daniel had hated every minute of it, but when both his brother and his best friend had joined in with their best puppy dog eyes, he broke every time.

"I didn't even know he'd been called up," Thomas said. Daniel's head was in his hands, and he looked absolutely exhausted.

"It all happened so fast," Daniel said, talking into his hands. "He was so far down the list, we thought he'd never be called for. But then he was, a little over a month ago, and he was off. I remember meeting him at the train with Mum and Dad, and he was so excited. He wanted to be a hero. Said—said he'd see us soon…" Daniel trailed off as sobs overcame him.

Thomas thought it strange, how his situation had reversed itself so thoroughly in the space of five minutes. He'd been the one sobbing then, and now here he was, watching Daniel, feeling utterly powerless to do anything. What could he say that would make any difference? He'd never been good at comforting anyone.

Suddenly, Daniel grabbed his uninjured hand. He squeezed it. Thomas squeezed back. This he could do. He sat there, squeezing this warm, soft hand in his, and let Daniel cry. He let himself cry as well. And for the first time since Edward's death, he didn't feel quite so alone.

"_Come on, Daniel! Pleeeeeeeeeaaaase?" Ronny whined, pulling on his brother's hair. They sat in their backyard on a warm summer afternoon, and Thomas was laying on his back next to them, moments from dozing off._

"_Ronny, leave me alone! Can't you see I'm trying to draw?" he complained, doing his best to ignore his sibling and continue drawing the purple flower inches away from him._

"_You're always drawing in that boring old book! You never want to play to with me!" Ronny pouted. He got up and stepped on the flower Daniel was sketching, crushing it into the dirt._

"_Ronny! You're so irritating! Get away from here, get away!" Daniel shouted, getting up as well and pushing his brother away. "Tommy, will you take this twerp away for a bit? Ugh, this sketch is useless now…" Daniel ripped the page out of his book and tossed it on the ground, searching for something else to draw._

_Thomas sighed, having woken up during the commotion. He often played peacekeeper between the two very different brothers, but it wasn't his favorite duty. "Ronny, come on! Let's go to the field for a little while," Thomas said, calling the smaller boy over._

_They made their way down the hill and into the beautiful field behind Daniel and Ronny's house. It was full of long grass, perfect for the many games of hide-and-seek the three boys had played there. _

"_Bet you can't catch me!" Thomas said to Ronny, breaking into a run as they entered the field._

"_Yes, I can!" Ronny said, laughing. _

_At first, Thomas tried to play fair, giving the younger boy at least a chance of catching him. But after a while, he decided to sprint ahead, running through a small clearing of much shorter grass before ducking into another patch of long grass and falling to his knees._

_Ronny burst into the clearing moments later, panting and looking this way and that for his target. He rushed into the long grass again, only feet from where Thomas was hiding, but after another minute, he returned to the clearing. "No fair, Tommy! This is supposed to be tag, not hide-and seek! You can't hide, Tommy!" he yelled._

_He began circling the clearing, peeking into the long grass in the hopes of finding Thomas. When he neared the place where Thomas was hiding, Thomas leapt upon him, growling like a lion._

"_Ha, I've got you!" he cried, tickling Ronny into submission. Ronny squealed with delight, rolling around in the grass, trying to escape. After a minute, the two of them lay on the grass, all tuckered out._

"_I wish you were my brother instead of Daniel," Ronny said, curling up next to Thomas._

_Thomas threw an arm around his shoulders and said, "I'd be a lousy big brother, Ronny."_

"_Nuh-uh! You're the best! You like cricket and playing pirates and soldiers and everything! And you never care if your clothes get dirty!" Ronny explained._

"_Maybe," Thomas agreed. "But think about all the stuff Daniel does for you. Remember the time you fell on the road and cut your leg on a piece of glass? I didn't know what to do, and you were crying and crying. And Daniel just found the all the things we needed and he patched you right up, good as new."_

"_I guess…" Ronny said._

"_And what about the time you ruined your new school clothes playing in the dirt? Daniel didn't tell your parents, did he? He scrubbed and scrubbed until they were all clean, and you never got caught. I would have let you get what was coming to you," Thomas continued._

_Ronny didn't say anything, apparently thinking._

"_And remember when we camped out in your backyard? Daniel told the best ghost stories I've ever heard! And you got so scared, and then Daniel promised he'd always be there to protect you? He even let you sleep under his blanket with him! I wouldn't have done that, you kick too much," Thomas finished._

"_I guess…" Ronny said, still thinking. "I guess he can be nice sometimes. Maybe…" He was looking at Thomas now. "Maybe we can all be brothers together? All three of us?" _

_Thomas smiled and ruffled Ronny's hair. "I'd like that." _

_A few minutes later, they'd stood up and were making to head back up the hill when Ronny shouted, "Wait!" He ran towards something on the other edge of the clearing and fell to his knees. A few moments later, he came running back, having just dug up a purple flower even more beautiful than the one Daniel had been drawing before. It sat in his outstretched hands, the purple in brilliant contrast with the dark soil._

_When they returned to the backyard, they found Daniel lying on his stomach, mid-way through sketching a daisy. He looked up at his brother, still annoyed about before. When he saw the purple peace offering, however, he smiled. Ronny made a little hole for it and then re-planted it just in front of where Daniel was lying._

"_Oh come here, you twerp," Daniel said, getting to his knees. He and Ronny hugged, and Daniel kissed him on the forehead. "You never let me stay mad at you."_

_Ronny laughed and then exclaimed, "Guess what, Daniel? You, me, and Tommy are all going to be brothers! Isn't that great?"_

_Daniel looked up at Thomas, eyes twinkling. Thomas winked at him. "That _is_ great. Well, Thomas, you know brothers have to take part in group hugs." _

_Thomas grinned, and got down to his knees as well. They all hugged before collapsing, one by one, onto their backs. Ronny was tucked between Thomas and Daniel. Daniel started playing with Thomas' hair absentmindedly. It felt nice._

"_Are we going to be brothers forever?" Ronny asked._

"_Forever," Thomas and Daniel said, together. They looked at each other, surprised. They grinned. _


End file.
